


The Reward

by greygerbil



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 18:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Tsar Yakov promised his firstborn son's hand in marriage to anyone who would rid him of his vampire problem, but Chris did not expect that to still apply if a low-life sellsword like him was the one to claim the price. However, Victor has already fallen for someone, and so Chris is instead offered the younger tsarevich Georgi, who seems less than enthused about the marriage. In the end, Chris is left trying to keep his wedding night from turning into a disaster in more ways than one.





	The Reward

**Author's Note:**

> For Spookyweek 2018, Day 1: Vampires.

“How did you do it, Christophe?”

Tsar Yakov leaned forward on his throne, which provided him with a rather forbidding frame, built of dark iron beams and crowned with sharp spikes as it was. Chris tried his best to hide how intimidating he found him even after sneaking around a nest of vampires for weeks, who by all rights should have scared him more than an old man. The truth of it was, though, he knew his way around undead monsters better than anyone should, but this was the first time he was in the throne room of a tsar. Chris placed a hand on the pommel of his sword as he looked up from where he kneeled.

“I fought a few of them by hand, but I’m sure so have your knights. When I realised they kept crawling like rats out of the same holes, I found a friend of mine and bought some explosives.” Considering he was in the tsar’s palace, Chris didn’t feel he should specify that said friend dealt in highly dangerous and very forbidden magic tech. “I knew you had tried shutting them in before, but there’s always more than one opening to a den. I’ve fought hundreds of these things back in my home country and I know how they are.” He gripped the pommel tighter. “I spent a few weeks up there in the hills, tracking their routes and mapping all their entrances and exits. I assume there’ll be a few stragglers left who were outside when I blew the explosives, but the mountain passes should be more or less safe now.”

“So my scouts tell me,” Yakov said slowly. “After three years and the dozen of knights I had standing before me lying to me that they have solved this problem, I expected you to be another dud, but you seem to be an honourable man after all.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Chris said with a charming smile. “But I do hope to become one someday.”

The world being what it was, though, he would need a little money to turn into a decent person in the eyes of the many. It would allow him to fix the holes in his boots and the chinks in his armour and appearances were very important to moving up in the world.

“Yes, I assume you have heard of the reward: the tsesarevich’s hand in marriage.”

Chris tried to hide his confusion that the tsar repeated the promised reward now that he had Chris kneeling before him. Hunting vampires was dangerous business and he hadn’t done it out of the good of his heart. Considering who he was, though – or rather, who he wasn’t, with his lack of title and lineage and not even a drop of blue blood –, he’d have been happy to take coin in exchange for simply forgetting about that promise. He had assumed insisting on it might turn him from a hero to the court into a denizen of the gaols with a snap of the tsar’s fingers, anyway. What king was honestly going to marry a wandering sellsword like Chris into his family outside of a fairy tale?

Tsesarevich Victor, Yakov’s oldest son, stood to the right-hand side of the throne. He was a striking sight to behold, with light grey hair and ice-blue eyes and a uniform adorned with silver embroidery and diamonds the colour of a cold winter sky that showed he knew just how to get the best out of his already mesmerising looks. The smile on his face was friendly, though a little apologetic.

“However…”

Chris heard the word, which passed the tsars’ lips with a note of exasperation, with no surprise. Here was the catch. Hopefully, he was going to get a fair bit of gold out of the deal. The tsar did look unhappy to be breaking his promise.

“My son has met a prince from the Eastern Isles and will not be convinced of another match now.”

The tone of Tsar Yakov’s voice all but echoed with the many discussions he and his son must have had on the topic. To his side, the tsesarevich showed himself unimpressed regardless, still smiling.

“Thus, I can’t offer you the heir to the throne as I promised, but I do have more children. I am sure you have heard of Tsarevich Georgi.”

Chris turned to look at Tsar Yakov’s left, where the man gestured briefly. Tsarevich Georgi, Chris knew from listening around at the inns and taverns he’d been to, was only a couple hours younger than his twin Victor, one born a little before and the other a little after midnight. As their birthdates were different, so were their appearances. Georgi, too, was long-limbed, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, but the blue of his eyes and colour of his hair was dark, and he wore a black general’s uniform with simple gold trimmings. There was no smile on his face.

“He won’t get a kingdom, but our lands are wide and rich and he’ll own more than some crown princes, so I doubt you could say to have made a bad match with him.”

The slight undertone in his voice betrayed to Chris that Tsar Yakov knew he was giving him more than Chris could hope for, but he would be standing by his word regardless. Chris could not find it in himself to disagree with the tsar’s insinuation at all. He was speechless that any royal son was thrown his way, and had it just been one who would have gone to the church otherwise. Georgi had no great legends told about him like his older brother, but he was spoken of as a diligent and brave general who was part of the ruling council and in no way someone the tsar was hoping to get rid of somehow.

Chris found his tongue again, finally, to give his answer after a long moment of baffled silence.

“I would be eternally grateful to you if gave me Tsarevich Georgi’s hand in marriage.”

Yakov nodded his head as if he agreed that Chris should be.

“He is yours, then. I look forward to having a fighter of your skill in the family, too.”

“Zhora, at this rate you’ll be married before me,” Victor said with a short laugh. “My Yuuri won’t return from his home for a few weeks yet.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Georgi said, glancing at Chris. He lowered his head briefly before him. “Thank you for your service to the realm, Christophe.”

Chris couldn’t help but think that Georgi didn’t seem particularly enthused about the match.

-

There was barely time before the wedding to do as much as exchange a few words with Tsarevich Georgi. After Chris had been dragged into a high end tailor’s shop to retrofit someone’s old uniform on him and find him matching boots, they were introduced to the populace as a couple the same evening, standing together up on a high balcony overseeing a giant plaza bursting with people. Georgi left right after the announcement. He still had to finish up a mission with the regiment he led to root out a gaggle of trolls at the border, so Chris spent the week until the wedding wandering the palace still kind of waiting to be kicked out again and wondering with what to fill his giant guest chambers. They were bigger than the tavern stables down at the river where he often used to sleep at, and he’d had to share those with a dozen horses.

He met the denizens of the palace, too. The guards eyed him with suspicion and the courtiers avoided him, but Tsarevna Mila liked to hear tales of his adventures and treated him a bit like an exotic bug. Tsarevich Yuri ignored him as best he could and snapped at Chris whenever Chris tried to make conversation, but that didn’t seem to be something he alone had to bear because Yuri talked to his siblings in much the same manner. Tsesarevich Victor was his favourite of the family, though, surprisingly pleasant company for such a highborn noble, who never even frowned at Chris when a dirty joke or ill-mannered remark slipped past his lips out of habit. They could talk for hours about the realm, Chris’ past, and Victor’s betrothed, which was undoubtedly the tsesarevich’s favourite topic.

“My father is angry at me that I forced him to break his promise,” he joked one evening as they wandered the wide palace gardens, “but Georgi won’t make you a bad husband. Unlike most soldiers, he doesn’t drink much or whore around, and he has a good heart.”

“Is he fine with your father’s plans, though? He didn’t look very happy.”

Not that Chris could blame him, really. Georgi had had good chances to gain the hand of a queen or a king and thus become almost a ruler in his own right, and now his father was going to marry him off to a mercenary.

“He’ll be fine! I think he’s a bit timid because he was unlucky in love so far. Lady Anya was his last lover’s name. She toyed with him a bit, but got married to a duke,” Victor said, waving his hand. “But if you prove to him you like him, he’ll be at your feet in no time. He is weak to romance.”

Chris wondered if that was the real reason when Georgi also had so many other good ones to oppose the union, but if it was indeed a broken heart his future husband nursed, he would be happy to help with mending it, or perhaps just be a pleasant distraction for the time being. Truth be told, Chris had not expected to be married at twenty-five, or perhaps even forty-five himself, but he most certainly wouldn’t get a chance to marry into royalty twice in a lifetime, so there had been no putting it off.

“I look forward to meeting Georgi again,” Chris said.

-

He did meet him again on the day of their wedding. Georgi had come back in the afternoon and looked like he hadn’t slept in days when he was presented to Chris as the sky was already growing dark. Still, the pale colour of his face matched his outfit, which was a black parade uniform with snow-white embellishments and a dark cloak trimmed with grey dire wolf fur heavy around his shoulders. Matched with the silver circlet made out of silver snowflakes with diamond inlays, he looked every bit the royal he was. Chris felt underdressed in the red honorary general’s uniform, a post he’d been quickly handed for his efforts in the mountains, and most likely so he didn’t have to show up to the wedding in his old leather breeches.

Despite how impressed and most certainly out of his depth Chris was, timidity had never been something you could accuse him of, so when he saw Georgi come into the courtyard flanked by his brothers Victor and Yuri, he smiled widely at him.

“You look bewitching, tsarevich,” he said with a sweet smile, glancing briefly at Victor, who grinned.

Georgi didn’t seem sure how to react, opening and closing his mouth twice before he settled on: “The uniform suits you.”

“Doesn’t it?” Chris asked, patting down the red fabric. “Though it wasn’t actually made for me, they just found it in the cellars somewhere. Still, you could fool anyone with this.”

With a perfunctory smile, Georgi nodded.

“Your mother only gave me a quick rundown of the ceremony,” Chris admitted. She was also not the sort of woman you would ask for clarifications because she might find a cane and punish you for not listening close enough the first time around. Chris doubted even being of blue blood would have helped him facing down Lilia Baranovskaya. “Here’s to hoping I don’t accidentally commit a mortal offense.”

“It’s easy,” Victor answered with a smile. “Just hold on to Zhora’s arm and say ‘yes’ whenever someone asks you anything. Zhora loves weddings, so he knows the protocol by heart. The only danger is that he’ll start crying.”

“Vitya…”

Victor laughed at the threat in his brother’s voice. Chris glanced back at Georgi, who looked indeed like he might start crying for just a split second, but not for joy.

“We’ll go on ahead into the cathedral,” Victor said. “See you in a bit.”

This left Georgi and Chris standing alone in the courtyard, between dark, looming fir trees topped with freshly fallen snow. Georgi looked at his boots and then at Chris.

“I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly last week,” he said.

“That’s fine, I heard you kept the borders safe. Besides, I had a chance to get to know your siblings.”

“What do you think of them?” Georgi asked.

Chris laughed.

“That little brother of yours, tsarevich Yuri, is a spitfire, I can say that much. Tsarevna Mila is reasonable enough not to run away and join a mercenary company, but I think she’d do it for a couple of years if she could get away with it. Your twin and me got along very well. The tsesarevich has shown me around the place and explained some courtly basics to me, so hopefully I won’t embarrass you.”

Georgi looked at him for a moment and then made a non-committal noise and glanced off to the side, his enthusiasm to speak with Chris obviously waning. Chris wondered what he’d said to step on his toes.

“We should go,” Georgi said, raising his gaze again, face once more a blank mask with only his eyes watching Chris carefully. He offered him his arm. “It’s expected that we enter the cathedral together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Chris grabbed his elbow and allowed Georgi to lead the way. Despite his obvious reluctance, he couldn’t pretend Georgi wasn’t still stunning to look at, snow-pale, ebony-dark, quiet, stern-faced, with his heavy mantle moving about him, like a sad prince out of fairy tale. It’d have been better if Chris hadn’t had the feeling he was the one making him sad, but there was still time to turn Georgi around on the idea of this marriage, right? They hadn’t even entered into it yet.

They walked along the quiet inner courtyard towards the palace’s own cathedral. Their shoes crunched on the grey snow, already trampled by the guests waiting inside. Two guards stood before the tall oak wood doors. The high walls of the castle cast shadows into the courtyard. It was cold and, for such a grand place, strangely bleak. Unconsciously, he found his grip on Georgi’s arm tighten. His husband glanced at him briefly, a little curious.

The guards pushed open the heavy doors and a buzz of hushed whispers shattered the silence. Rows upon rows of nobles watched them from the church benches as Georgi and him came down the aisle. Chris wondered if they thought the tsar had gone insane as much as he himself did and gave his best to show the dazzling smile that had occasionally won him a night with a noble son or daughter slumming it in a tavern, hoping it would make him look just as irresistible to these people, yet knowing it was probably a lost cause.

The ceremony was just so much text in an ancient version of the Winter Country’s language that Chris barely understood. He found his gaze drifting over the royal family standing to both sides of the priest: The tsar and his wife Lilia, a beautiful woman who looked like she could spear a man with a gaze; Victor and the fiery-haired only daughter Mila in her military uniform who kept catching her brother Georgi’s eyes and grinning; and the youngest son Yuri, who was still eyeing Chris suspiciously even after having been around him in the palace for a week. Victor smiled at Chris and winked over Yuri’s head.

Georgi tugging carefully at his arm alerted Chris that something was asked of him. Instinctively, he went down on one knee following Georgi’s example and let the priest bless them in the name of all the gods before he copied Georgi again and got up. Georgi was the one to say ‘yes’ first, which was good because it allowed Chris to remember the vague sound of the sentence with which he’d been asked and then give his own answer in turn. The priest handed Georgi a silver circlet inlaid with green emeralds which he placed on Chris’ head.

The crowd applauded them politely as they turned to walk of the cathedral, now at the head of a procession with Georgi’s family behind them. Luckily, Georgi still led the way by himself. Chris had seen the main hall of the palace before, but the fact that he had just actually gotten married to a prince was really hitting home as he felt the small weight of the circlet on his head and he doubted he could have called the layout of the castle from memory right now. Instead, he allowed his husband to drag him to the dais with the raised table for the royal family. The tsar and his wife sat in the middle, Georgi and Chris to Yakov’s right hand.

“How does it feel?” Victor asked, leaning on the back of Chris’ chair for a moment and pointing with his chin to the great hall slowly filling with people.

Chris considered the masses of food, servants, the musicians, the well-dressed guests.

“Like I broke in and should make off with the golden plates.”

They both laughed. Victor patted him on the shoulder before he crossed over to the other side of the table, where Mila was seated. Yuri sat next to Chris. He was distracted calling over one of the noblemen, Otabek, whom Chris had seen around the castle before. Otabek was some lord’s son and Yuri and him seemed to be thick as thieves. A dark-haired woman had come up to stand by Mila’s side of the table, shadowed by a man who had the same pretty purple eyes as her. Victor was talking to his parents. The only one still silent was Georgi, who was looking at Chris when Chris turned to him, but quickly averted his gaze. Chris wanted to say something, but that was when the tsar got up to make a speech, briefly mentioning Chris’ bravery and Georgi’s own accomplishments on the battlefield, and how they would make strong defenders for the realm. It was a pretty good spin on a very awkward marriage, considering, and, letting his gaze touch on the crowd, Chris wondered how many of the people here had wanted the hands of their own sons and daughters in Georgi’s. He considered briefly if someone would try to kill him eventually to free up the spot once more. Well, tonight would be too obvious, so he didn’t have to worry about it just yet.

While food was served, the nobles now lined up to congratulate them and Georgi introduced Chris to a never-ending line of people, lots of names and faces that slipped Chris’ mind as soon as they entered it, which he was sure he would end up paying for eventually, but hopefully not tonight. Between trying to eat, saying a few nice things to everyone who approached, occasionally exchanging a word or two with Georgi’s family and making sure not to spill red wine or sauce over his expensive clothes, Chris didn’t say a full sentence to his husband all evening, and suddenly, Victor stood behind them again and tapped them on the shoulders.

“It’s midnight,” he said. “As your oldest brother, Zhora, it’s my duty to kick you out now.”

There was a twinkle in Victor’s eye, and conversely a disgusted sneer on Yuri’s face, which in combination allowed Chris to deduce what wedding custom came next. He offered his hand to Georgi, who looked at it almost with trepidation.

“Shall we?”

Wordlessly, Georgi took his hand.

Chris had been to a fair amount of weddings and, even though this was a royal one, expected a bit of whistling and hollering as Victor opened a side door to the hall in view of everyone and led them through. The noble crowd did not cheer for them, though. Maybe they just never did, or maybe Chris’ presence had put a damper on the mood.

Victor led the way down a series of corridors until they stood in front of an open door to a room filled mostly by a big bed. Grinning, he gestured at it before stepping aside.

“Have fun,” he told them.

He turned to leave and Georgi stepped forward to shut the door behind him. Chris and him stood in the room still holding hands. Georgi’s fingers were cold and not totally steady, fidgeting against his. Chris wondered if anyone lived in this room. It didn’t look like it. Everything was so pristine and unmarred by personal belongings. Two ceremonial swords, pommels heavy with gemstones, hung crossed at the wall as the only decoration. Probably another guest chamber.

“Well, thank the gods, maybe we’ll finally get a chance to speak,” he said, turning to Georgi, who had moved away from him to open a window. A fresh breeze blew into the stuffy room.

“Feasts like this one are always busy. You’ll get used to it,” Georgi answered, unclasping his mantle. He looked a lot slimmer without its weighty folds cascading from his shoulders. 

“It’s just a pity,” Chris said, closing in on him until they stood just a foot apart. Georgi did not shy away. “I’d have liked to talk since we got so little chance to before.”

“Yes?” Georgi said, hesitant, evidently not quite sure what to make of Chris’ words.

“If you want to, that’s what we can do tonight. Talk.”

Chris wouldn’t pretend he had any qualms about jumping into bed with an attractive stranger, but he could tell something was still sitting sideways in Georgi’s chest and according to his brother, Georgi was quite the romantic. Now, Chris did want to sleep with him not just for the pleasure of sex, but also knowing that it would basically be putting his best foot forward, but this man was supposed to be his husband, after all, and they would have time enough for Chris to prove his skills in all the nights to come.

Georgi stared at him for a moment.

“It’s our wedding night!” he exclaimed, suddenly. “We could at least try…” He interrupted himself, looking into Chris’ eyes again, and then abruptly turned away. “Never mind,” he said. “No, I won’t make you share my bed. But please stay in this room, or the whole court will laugh at me tomorrow.”

Stunned, Chris looked at the back of his head. There was so much bitterness and distress in Georgi’s words, much less than their short relationship of a few sentences should reasonably be able to carry. If it had been about Georgi’s unwillingness to be here, perhaps he would have understood, but it seemed instead like Georgi thought that Chris was the one who wanted to dodge his marital duties.

“That’s not what I meant, tsarevich,” Chris said, quickly. “I just didn’t-”

He was interrupted by a deafening crash. Both him and Georgi spun to look at the window. It took only one flash of claws and a flap of leathery wings for Chris to know what he was seeing, but before he could open his mouth, the vampire was on top of him, with a second one hot on its heels. His circlet clattered to the ground.

He rammed his elbow in the creature’s face to keep it from biting him and kicked blindly at the other one. Forced to the ground by the vampire’s weight, however, there was not much he could do as it snapped for his neck.

He heard air whistle as a blade struck out, inches above his head, and hit the vampire hard in the shoulder. A swift kick of a spotless black leather boot forced it off. Georgi had grabbed the ceremonial swords that had hung on the wall and threw one to Chris as he stood above him, brandishing the other.

While Georgi fended off a third vampire Chris hadn’t even seen come in, Chris clambered to his feet and gripped his weapon. It had terrible balance, as you’d expect from a show piece, and he wished for his own razor-sharp, notched steel blade right about now, but this would have to do. As Georgi deflected the brunt of an attack with the side of his blade, Chris spun around him and rammed his sword deep into one vampire’s chest cavity, using the metal stuck in the creature like a handle to wrench it to the ground. Quickly, he secured it with his foot on its gaping chest and then hacked off its head with a few brutal downward swings.

When he looked up again, Georgi had been backed against the window, standing in the shards of the vase the vampires had knocked over coming in. He blocked a slash of claws with his arm while the other vampire was held at bay by his sword, his uniform ripping as blood spilled from his open wound.

Immediately, the vampire who had slashed him open lost focus, staring at the arm. Chris could see now as they stood there how skinny they were. Usually, vampires had some control. They were not stupid, but hunger could drive anyone and anything crazy.

Chris shot forward and slashed his sword across the vampire’s back. It howled, fanged mouth wide open, and twisted around only to have Georgi grab it by the flimsy remains of grey hair still attached to its skull and throw it sideways. Chris tore it fully down to the ground with a shove and staked it with his sword before laboriously hacking that one’s head off, too. Gods, this blunt ceremonial sword felt like a woodworker’s axe in his hands.

The last vampire, which Georgi was forcing against the wall with quick strikes of his sword, was made short work off now that it was two against one. Chris and Georgi remained panting between the emaciated corpses and severed heads oozing thick black blood onto the carpet.

Before either of them had a chance to speak, the door burst open to admit Victor and his father as well as a handful of guards.

“A servant girl heard shouting inside here. What’s going on?” Victor asked, staring at the remains of the vampires.

“Everything under control,” Chris said with a lopsided smile as he stepped away so Victor and the others could have a better look at the gruesome pile of bodies. He turned one of them with his foot, inspecting it.

“Those are vampires,” Georgi said, frowning. “I’ve never seen them this deep into the city. And they look so thin...”

“It’s because they don’t have a pack to hunt with anymore,” Chris said, regarding their forms. “Thanks to me, which is probably why they followed me and waited to get me alone, or as alone as I ever would be. I imagine they were just smart enough to realise they’d be killed before they’d catch me if they made themselves obvious in the city, so they couldn’t feed here, either.”

“So, stragglers?” Victor asked. “You mentioned those could be around, but I never thought they’d be bold enough to attack in the castle.”

“For the monsters they are, they do think. Animals don’t want revenge this badly. They must have known they wouldn’t get out alive and did it anyway,” Chris said with a wan smile. Persistent bastards, but it was strangely enough in those moments you remembered they weren’t just beasts.

Yakov breathed out. “Well, this was an interesting diversion to the wedding festivities. Zhora, you’re bleeding.”

“Just a scratch,” Georgi said, glancing down at his arm. “I will patch it up myself, just...” He looked at the corpses. “We can’t stay here. I’ll take us to my room.”

“Will there be more of them?” Yakov asked, turning to Chris.

“Hard to say, but I doubt it. Not in the city, anyway. If there were, they’d have all banded together. Would have had a better shot at killing me like that.”

With a curt nod, Yakov looked at the bodies once more. “Still, I’ll have a guard stationed before your door, Zhora.”

Before he left, Georgi leaned down to pick up the circlet. In the chaos, Chris had all but forgotten about it.

The guard followed them as Georgi and Chris left the guest chambers behind. Chris had seen the royal quarters before as Victor had shown him around the palace, mentioning that Chris would probably get his own rooms there once he was married to Georgi. The door Georgi chose opened onto a room that looked a lot more like it was inhabited than the one they had been in before. What of the wall wasn’t hidden by bookshelves had been covered in beautiful tapestries showing gods and heroes and monsters. Chris stopped to look at them as Georgi closed the door.

“I want to clean my wound. Would you like to wash up, too?” he asked.

Chris looked down at himself and felt a twinge of his nerves. All over his beautiful clothes were splatters of the dark vampire blood. He gave a weak laugh.

“I tried so hard not to get stains on the uniform all evening. Do you think your father will be mad?”

“Why would he be?” Georgi asked. “These are your clothes, to start with.”

“I’m sure they cost a lot of money.”

“You are my husband,” Georgi said, looking away again. “I can buy you new ones or have these mended. You needn’t have worried.”

Georgi moved to a door in the back of the chamber. It led to a small washing room. A tub of water stood prepared.

“It won’t be heated now,” Georgi said. “The servants didn’t expect us here.”

“We’ll survive. Show me your arm.”

Georgi hesitated, but did as Chris said after a moment. The skin around the wound already looked red and inflamed, but Chris knew from experience that would usually go down on its own. The bites were more dangerous.

He pulled Georgi down next to the wooden bathtub and carefully folded up the ripped cloth of the uniform to his elbow so it wouldn’t touch the wound before running clean water over it.

“The vampires,” Georgi said, after a moment of silence. “You looked sad when you saw the corpses.”

Of all the things to speak about, Chris hadn’t expected that. He looked up at Georgi, surprised the man who seemed to dislike him so passionately had even taken note of it.

“Don’t mind that. I think I spent too many days hunting vampires, only sitting with these monsters alone up in the hills or in the forests. I’m well aware they can’t be saved, but they were human once, weren’t they? Sometimes, you can still see it in a gesture or hear it when they speak to each other. With that in mind, tearing their heads off feels callous sometimes.”

“I see,” Georgi said, more softly than anything he’d said to Chris up to now.

Chris kept a grip on his arm. If there was any opening in Georgi’s defences at all, he was seeing it now.

“Tsarevich, why don’t you like me?” Chris asked, right out. “I know you probably had someone of your status in mind for your marriage. I understand that. But can’t you at least give me a chance, since we’ll be stuck with each other, anyway?” He tried for a lighter tone, but he was quite serious about the intent.

Georgi knit his brow.

“I don’t care about where you come from or who your parents are,” he said. “That’s not what this is about.”

Again, he seemed to have trouble looking at Chris, but Chris kept his grip on his arm, making it impossible for him to flee.

“What _is_ it about?”

Georgi took a deep breath. “You were promised my brother,” he said, slowly. “I know people have much more good to say about him than me when it comes to our prowess, and of course he has the crown. I just... despise the thought that you must see me as a consolation price, especially now that you’ve also gotten to know him and the two of you get along _so_ well.” The last words carried more than a trace of annoyance. “I did not want to stand in Victor’s shadow in my own marriage, at the very least, but it seems that’s just my destiny.”

Chris stared at Georgi, unable to answer for a moment. The cold façade he’d been glancing off of all evening had crumbled, and instead the prince looked angry and embarrassed as he held Chris’ gaze.

“Tsarevich,” Chris took a moment to collect his words, “to be honest, I expected your venerable father to give me a sack of gold and send me on my way with a note never to mention his promise of marriage again lest I wanted to see the swords of his guards up close. I mean, who marries a sellsword to a prince? Both you and your brother are so ridiculously high above my station splitting hairs between tsesarevich and tsarevich is entirely pointless. And as for Victor... yes, he is good to talk to, but I have barely had a conversation with you yet. Who is to say I won’t find you much more likeable?”

Doubt was written all over Georgi’s face, but a flicker of hope came with it.

“Besides, you have to admit, we make fine companions on the battlefield,” Chris added. “As much as a castle guest room can be one. Isn’t that promising?”

“A little,” Georgi said with a shadow of a smile.

Following an impulse, Chris leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Georgi was very still, but his eyes fluttered closed after a moment and his hand touched Chris’ wrist.

“In my homeland, they kiss at the wedding,” Chris said as he pulled back. “I’ve seen in at a few peasant weddings here, too, but it doesn’t seem to be a custom for you highborns... that’s a shame.”

Georgi murmured somewhat of an agreement, looking so startled it made Chris laugh. He was not sure, at first, what possessed him to be so bold with the tsarevich all of the sudden, but realised in the way Georgi looked at him now that it was knowing that Georgi was nervous, too, frightened not to be wanted. He was not so inscrutable, after all.

Chris took off his stained clothes and washed his hands and face and Georgi did the same, watching him from the corners of his eyes. There was some clean linen with which Chris bound Georgi’s wound. Down to their shirts and underclothes, they walked back into Georgi’s room. Georgi turned to place both their circlets on the nightstand and Chris decided that if being impertinent had won him one victory, maybe Georgi just wasn’t looking for a well-mannered nobleman in the first place. He grasped him around the hip and dragged him onto the bed, ignoring his gasp of surprise.

“From what I understood, you wanted a proper wedding night, is that right?” Chris asked with a grin as Georgi turned on his back under him, bracketed by Chris’ arms.

“It just sounded like you already planned to keep our bed cold from now on...”

Chris laughed.

“Here’s the first thing you have to know about me: I plan not to share myself with anyone but my husband, but that means you’ll probably have me in your bed a whole lot. I get lonely at night...”

Those last words were purred into Georgi’s ear and he could feel a little shiver working its way through the tsarevich’s body. Georgi’s hands grasped him firmly, pulling him closer, and Chris moved his mouth down along the tendons of his neck. Georgi was every inch a soldier, hard with muscle and wearing thin scars that Chris revealed as he brushed under Georgi’s shirt and felt the skin underneath.

The racing fire that fighting for your life woke was still in their blood and so they were tearing off clothes and grabbing at each other with little finesse but a lot of passion soon enough. Chris pulled Georgi’s hard cock out of his underclothes, teasing the slit with his thumb as he squeezed him in his hand and enjoying the low moan that tore free of Georgi’s throat. He held their cocks together, straddling Georgi’s thighs as his hand worked them quickly. Georgi’s tongue was in his mouth as Chris reached his peak, so he could only make a small, breathless noise against his lips. With his own seed to slick the movement, Chris sped up his hand and made Georgi come while sucking a mark into his neck. The tsarevich moaned his name with that hard _K_ at the start and the sharp _F_ at the end that the people of this land liked to give it and Chris knew he had to tease that out again as soon as possible because the sound went straight through him.

“I think the guard outside might have heard you,” Chris said afterwards, comfortably lying on top of Georgi, listening to his heartbeat slowing.

Georgi stared at him.

“I completely forgot he was there,” he said, wide-eyed.

Chris grinned. “Good. You were supposed to be thinking about me.”

Sliding off, he took a moment to look at Georgi in his undressed state when the prince turned onto his side to follow Chris’ movement. He was no less alluring now than he had been in his uniform. The heated blush on his face went down to his chest. Chris grabbed his own balled-up shirt and cleaned the semen off Georgi’s stomach, then dropped it to pet the ridged muscle, sliding his fingers down the curve of a scar to Georgi’s soft cock and down his powerful thigh. Georgi smiled at him and pulled him against his chest.

“I should bring you to your chambers,” he said, after a while of simply holding Chris’ in his arms.

Until now, Chris had resided in one of the guest rooms, getting lost in all the space with his one knapsack full of belongings. He imagined his chambers would be similar. Not a very inviting prospect, especially considering the alternative.

“Doesn’t that have time until tomorrow?” he asked.

“I thought you might want to sleep in your own bed.” Georgi paused. “Or do couples sleep in shared chambers where you come from?”

“Your highness, the house I grew up in had one room. Everyone slept in it, including the goats,” Chris said, raising a brow. “But if I get a choice, I’d rather spend my nights with you.”

It just seemed normal, customs of the blue bloods be damned. He didn’t want to sleep in a different bed than his husband.

“It’s not how it’s usually done, but...” Georgi smiled blissfully and raked his fingers through Chris’ curls. Just from the way he had latched on to Chris after sex, he could tell that Georgi was not the kind of person who was in a hurry to get rid of his lover as soon as he had spent himself. Chris leaned into the embrace, allowing himself to relax for the first time today, or this week, or maybe these last couple of months, when he’d first started trailing the vampires. Great sex wasn’t a guarantee of a strong marriage, but this, all of this, felt like a good start.

“You have a lot of books,” he said, glancing past Georgi’s shoulder after another moment of silence.

“Yes, but most of them are novels and poems and tales.” The tsarevich chuckled. “My parents want me to read more philosophy.”

“Yours sound better to me,” Chris said, honestly.

“Do you like to read?”

Chris shook his head, then shrugged. “Actually, I imagine I would like to. I do enjoy a good story, but I can’t read.”

“Oh... maybe I could teach you?” Georgi offered.

“I’d be sure to pay you back, tsarevich.”

Chris kissed him slowly.

“Georgi,” Georgi said, after they had parted. “Or – Zhora. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Zhora,” Chris repeated and looked up at Georgi’s smiling face. “Yes, I like that better.”

He had a feeling he would really enjoy getting to know Georgi.


End file.
